Alejandra Pizarnik. Originally published in Spanish as Árbol de Diana y Otros Diana’s Tree by Alejandra Pizarnik (Chem.): a verbal crystallization. Visi6n enlutada, desgarrada, de un jardin con estatuas . The present essay analyzes Pizarnik’s poetry with respect to an issue Arbol de Diana. Buenos. Descarga: Alejandra Pizarnik – Árbol de Diana: Ignoria (Prólogo de Octavio Paz) #.U25pgfl5OSo. El viejo y el mar by Ernest Hemingway.

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Of course it is both, which turns the epigraph from Quevedo into an ironic, mocking motto against which the last line of the couplet demands to be read.

Death is a word. Asking is so far away. Huella azul en la pared. I am alone and I write.

Árbol de Diana (Diana’s Tree) by Alejandra Pizarnik: three poems | Moving Poems

Soy la amante de Pizarnik. Alejaandra existir como lo que soy: Reloj que late conmigo para que nunca despierte. This is not to say, however, that poetry was a practice of psychological self-care for her, or that losing oneself necessarily means a retreat from others. The pleasure of losing yourself in the image foreseen. Ten years later she died from an overdose of barbiturates.

Toda mi vida te espera. Me quieren anochecer, me van a morir.


Incluso de “La condesa sangrante” he sacado algo. Her constrained repertoire of images and themes are the dreamworld of a child and bristle with the urgency of adolescence: She walked away singing and looked like an old beggar, and the children pelted her with stones.


While I mostly wandered lost in translation? However, without her constant suffering and darkness then one would argue that her poetry wouldn’t be as amazing and breathtaking as it is. Refresh and try again. You announce yourself like thirst. As if nothing were happening, which is true. Death has refunded silence its spellbinding prestige.

A few words scribbled on a slate that same month, reiterating her desire to go nowhere “but to the bottom,” sum up her lifelong aspiration as Born in Buenos Aires to Russian parents who had fled Europe and the Nazi Holocaust, Alejandra Pizarnik was destined for literary greatness as well as an early death.

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No, no estoy sola. In this light, the method of composition for which she was known in Paris — constantly working and reworking on the chalkboard up until the moment when the poem revealed itself alejqndra hopelessly complete — becomes endearingly pathetic and serves as an important rejoinder to the poets and their schools with whom Pizarnik is typically lumped.

If the soul should ask you if that is far from here, you should say, Disna the other side of the river, not this one, but the one over there. Extracting the Stone reads like a similarly flash-frozen process. Free weekly digest of Moving Poems content Email address: Your email address will not be published.


I don’t know if that’s knowable. So much desire made so implacable by the human problem of being an embodied idea.

I want to exist beyond myself: Obsessed with themes of solitude, childhood, madness and death, Pizarnik explored the shifting valences of the self and the border between speech and silence. Alas, like it seems to be with my favorite poets these days, this one aljeandra no longer around to produce more poetry but take comfort in what I have that she wrote. Want to Read saving…. Everything closed and a,ejandra wind inside. I have been trying for months to find the right words to describe Pizarnik’s poetry.

I only think of your body but I redo the body of my poem like someone who tries to cure her own wound. I rose from ;izarnik body and went out in search of who I am.

XVII Something was falling in the silence. This is why I write.